I sighed. “Are you going to join us or not? I’m going to call downstairs and reserve a table for one o’clock. Should I make it for two or three?”
“Definitely three. There’s nothing I enjoy more than being a third wheel.” He rapped his knuckles against my door. “See you later, Fifi.”
A few hours later, I’d lost track of the time and arrived at the restaurant at ten after one. Travis and Weston were already seated. They stood as I approached the table.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I’m not sure where the morning went.”
Both men went to pull out the chair between them at the same time. It was awkward, but Travis backed off.
“Thank you,” I said, taking my seat. “I hope I didn’t miss too much.”
“Not at all.” Travis smiled. “It gave Weston and me a chance to get to know each other a little.”
My eyes slanted to Weston’s. He picked up a glass of water and brought it to his lips. “It made my day.”
I scowled. Luckily Travis either didn’t notice Weston’s sarcasm or was professional enough for both of them and ignored it.
“I was just starting to tell Weston we can start as soon as tomorrow, if that’s alright with you both. All of the open issues with the building department have been cleared, and the missing paperwork filed. I had to renew the permits because they’d expired already, but I took the liberty of putting down tomorrow as the start date. So we’re ready to go, if you give us the all clear.”
Weston and I agreed the sooner the better, and we went on to discuss how many shifts we wanted working and the dates Travis thought we might want to leave the rooms directly below the construction open because of higher noise levels. We ordered, and by the time our food came, Weston’s attitude seemed to have relaxed a bit.
Travis picked up the ketchup and twisted the top. Removing the bun from his hamburger, he said, “You know, my fiancée and I looked at the Imperial Salon after we got engaged.” He smiled. “Once we got the cost estimate, we realized we’d have to cut our guest list in half to hold our wedding here. But I think if the rooftop had been open at the time we were looking, my fiancée would’ve talked me into taking out a loan to snag this place. I really think it’s going to be beautiful, once it’s done.”
Weston perked up. “Where did you wind up having your wedding?”
Travis shook his head. “We didn’t. Things…didn’t work out exactly as planned.”
Weston sent a gloating smile my way. “You like the single life, then? Some people just aren’t the marrying type.”
“Oh, no. I’m definitely the marrying type. I hate the bar scene and prefer a quiet night at home after a long day’s work. My fiancée, Alana, passed away.” He shook his head. “Breast cancer.”
I put my hand on Travis’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
I didn’t miss the way Weston’s eyes zoomed in on my hand.
He grumbled between gritted teeth, “Sorry for your loss.”
A little while later, we’d gotten on the subject of college, and Travis mentioned that he’d dropped out. Again, Weston seemed to perk up and commented that not everyone could hack finishing their education. Travis then replied that he’d dropped out to help his dad, who needed back surgery.
There were a few more odd exchanges like that, and I could’ve sworn Weston enjoyed hearing a potential negative about Travis, and it pissed him off every time when it turned out to be something noble.
When our lunch plates were cleared, the waiter came over and handed us dessert menus. “We also have a wonderful array of spiked coffees—Irish coffee with Bailey’s, French cappuccino made with Grand Marnier, and Italian Classico made with amaretto.”
Full from lunch, I passed on dessert but ordered a cappuccino. Weston ordered a regular coffee, and the waiter turned to Travis.
“How about you? The spiked coffees are delicious. Can I tempt you?”
Travis held up a hand. “No, no temptation for me. Thank you. I’ll have a regular coffee.”
“I guess it’s not such a good idea to add liquor to lunch when you work around heavy machinery,” Weston said.
Travis nodded. “Actually, I don’t drink at all. Seen too many guys go down a rabbit hole from alcohol. It’s just a personal choice.”
Weston’s jaw flexed. He tossed his napkin on the table. “You know what? I just remembered I have another appointment to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, Travis.” He nodded to me. “I’ll take care of the check on my way out. You two enjoy yourselves.”
Chapter 14
* * *
Sophia
“Oh my God, it’s worse than I expected. What is that dreadful thing you have on your arms?”
“Scarlett! You’re early!” I rushed out from behind the reception desk and wrapped my arms around my friend. After we hugged, Scarlett pulled back and held my shoulders.
“Is that brown?”
I glanced down at the blazer I wore. “It’s part of the hotel’s uniform. I wear it when I’m behind the front desk. What’s wrong with it?”
Scarlett seemed confused at my question. “It’s brown.”
I laughed. As expected, Scarlett looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine instead of off a seven-hour flight. Her shoulder-length blond hair was styled in roaring-twenties finger waves. She had on wide-legged cream slacks with a simple navy silk blouse, but the six or seven layers of pearls wrapped around her neck, oversized men’s Rolex on her wrist, and bright red pointy shoes on her feet made the outfit scream fashionista. Scarlett was a good five inches shorter than me, standing at only five foot two, but I doubted anyone knew that since her heels were always sky high. Her skin was as pale as mine, yet she could pull off bright red lipstick like no other. I think when your mother names you Scarlett, you might not really have a choice.
“We all can’t look picture perfect like you. How was your flight? And I thought you were bringing another person?”
“I did. He had to go straight to a meeting. I told him I had a pressing engagement and he’d have to handle it alone.”
I pouted. “I hope you aren’t gone too long. I was looking forward to having drinks. I haven’t found a new Friday night happy hour buddy yet.”
Scarlett draped her arm around my neck. “You are my pressing engagement. Why else would I take such a dreadful early-morning flight?”
I smiled. “Oh, great! That’s exactly what I need.”
It was the first time in a few days that I hadn’t felt a bit blue. I hated to admit it, but the lack of attention from Weston had left me feeling almost melancholy. It was stupid, I knew that, but logic didn’t pep me up any. Sadly, our fighting—and what came after our fighting—had been the highlight of my last few weeks. Ever since our lunch with Travis two days ago, Weston had been scarce. He’d even been keeping the door to his office shut now, which he’d never done before.
Granted, we were both really busy. Between the construction, the meeting we’d had with the union, our legal teams holed up in conference rooms and constantly requiring us to chase things to continue their due diligence, and just the general time constraints of trying to run a hotel you’re barely familiar with, it was a wonder either of us had time to notice the other one’s absence. I really hated that it bugged me at all.